


I of the Storm

by Fidgeting_fandango



Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: F/M, Lord Asriel/m
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fidgeting_fandango/pseuds/Fidgeting_fandango
Summary: Marisa and Asriel first meet at a social held at Jordan College - who knew it would all spiral from there?
Relationships: Lord Asriel/Marisa Coulter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	I of the Storm

A college ball wasn’t a particularly grand affair, if anything it was actually rather tedious. Hosted annually at Jordan College during the late midsummer months, just prior to the new term starting, it was an opportunity for the students of Oxford to meet one another and exchange contacts. Well, that was the idea at least; for it ultimately became an opportunity for the young men of Jordan to lord it over those less fortunate than themselves, those who were not quite fortuitous enough to be granted the opportunity to study at such a grand institution due to perhaps their wealth, intelligence or gender. It was a shame really, allowing the young men to brag so openly about their reputable institution, badgering the poor young women of St Sophia’s, who’s only real misfortune in life was the fact that they were women and thus condoned to the likes of their all-female college. It was a tradition though and so, as traditions go, the event continued each year, often attracting more students than the last.

Marisa wasn’t entirely sure that such an event warranted her attention though she knew it payed to show face and, just maybe, there would be someone mildly interesting to catch her attention, though she didn’t hold out much hope on that. It was an odd feeling to know that _you_ were the most interesting character in a room, be it for your beauty, your intelligence, or your natural charm that drew both drooling men and enviable yet curious women to your company. Marisa was blessed with all such qualities and knew just _how_ and _when_ best to utilise them to her advantage. She sat by her mirror, watching the warm evening sun pool light into her modest yet somewhat confined dormitory, as she added just a light dusting of makeup before adorning a beautiful silk dress, the likes that was bound to gain the attention of her fellow scholars. Her golden monkey daemon watched curiously from his position atop her wardrobe, his fur gleaming in the glowing rays; he remained silent, save for the odd chirp of impatience. Marisa flashed him a glare, “well there’s no point arriving early now, is there?”. He sighed and turned to focus his attention elsewhere, hoping that eventually they would leave the restrictions of their enclosed dormitory.

After half an hour or so, Marisa was finally ready. She stood, hoisting her daemon up onto her shoulders as she did so before the pair of them began their journey towards the college campus. Normally she’d have taken a cab, but this was far too pleasant an evening to miss, particularly as the rest of it was to be spent within the confines of Jordan’s great stone walls, surrounded by schmoozing scholars and chattering students. As Marisa neared the campus, she noted the lively buzz of conversation from within and took a deep breath, preparing herself for the evening ahead. She headed up the main steps and into the main hall.

Arriving fashionably late, the main hall was already alive with the buzz of conversation echoing throughout the great stone-walled chamber. The room was thronged with people, all from varying establishments and backgrounds – some students, some scholars, it really was a showcase of Oxfords finest (supposedly at least). Marisa looked around curiously, wondering where best to integrate herself amongst the masses when a voice from behind caught her by surprise.

“And I told him it was entirely philosophical, yet he accused me of heresy and threatened to cut my funding!” came the loud booming voice of a man, deep in heated conversation with his companion.

“Really, Asriel, you can’t blame him for that!”, replied the second man, rather wearily. Marisa watched curiously as the two strode past her, noticing the first man, Asriel, casting a glance in her direction as they went. Her lip quirked slightly, and she cast a puzzled look to the golden monkey, who returned it with equal measure, though before she could follow up on her curiosity, the dull figure of Edward Coulter appeared, almost predictably, by her side, as though he had been waiting on her arriving.

“Ah, Marisa! I’m so glad you could make it – your research didn’t keep you away then I see?”. Edward was a recent graduate of Jordan, slightly older than herself, who had taken quite a liking towards her since they had met at a formal social a few months prior. Marisa herself wasn’t entirely convinced by his company but he was an intelligent and inoffensive enough character from a fairly wealthy background, so keeping him around had its benefits. She smiled forcibly and told him about her latest research into the workings of clockwork in West Africa. He nodded along dully, feigning interest, and she couldn’t help but glance over in Asriel’s direction, noting his passionate conversation to his unfortunate companion about the audacity of the church was still very much raging on. She smiled to herself and Edward couldn’t help but take notice. He turned to follow her gaze,

“ah, yes, Lord Asriel Belacqua”

“you know him?” she queried, with genuine curiosity, an emotion she was not used to feeling in her present company.

“He’s a postgraduate”, Edward nodded, “just returned from some expedition north, Svalbard I think, though I can’t be sure. The Magisterium caught wind of his investigations and forced the scholars to cut his funding – rightly so, if you ask me. Bit of a prat really”. Marisa looked at him quizzically, noting the ruffled appearance of Edward’s Labrador daemon.

“And what was he over there studying? How did he acquire the initial funding if his work is _so_ dastardly?”, she couldn’t help a slight mocking creeping into her tone, but either Edward ignored it or was utterly oblivious because he stammered slightly, realising he wasn’t actually sure _what_ Ariel had been studying.

“Well, ehm… something to do with particles…Russel particles? Russa- something”, he went on, rather stupidly

“Rusakov Particles?” she interjected sharply, feeling the monkey’s fur bristle against her neck. 

“Yes, I do believe so”, Edward stammered uneasily, still unsure of what Rusakov Particles actually were and why exactly they were in need of studying in the first place. Marisa turned away from him, fed up of his idiocy and noticed that Asriel was looking back in their direction, obviously noting the attention he had attracted. He grinned and Marisa felt a slight flutter in her chest and looked away quickly. Edward, however, had clearly noticed the exchange and offered rather pointedly to accompany her to find a drink. She agreed, though slightly reluctantly, and allowed him to escort her to the far side of the grand hall where they found two flutes of slightly flat champagne and an even flatter conversation to attach themselves to. It was only after twenty minutes of this mundane discussion involving the personal life of a Jordan scholar, whom Marisa had no interest in, that she was able to excuse herself from the group and make her way outside into the quiet and dimly lit courtyard which she found to be pleasantly peaceful by comparison. The sky was dark now and a cool night air had set in with the evening's arrival, though Marisa found herself relishing the fresh chilled breeze against her skin after having been trapped inside for so long. She stroked her daemon's golden fur absentmindedly as her mind wandered to the possibilities of travelling all the way to the North - to the land of witches and armoured bears and other such wonders she could only dream of. Marisa smiled apathetically; as if she would ever have such an opportunity as that: to disappear for months on end, dedicating everything to your academic passion. Such an opportunity could only be afforded by the privileged and though she was fairly well-off, she was hardly high born.

After some minutes of quiet, she heard the doors of the college swing open and watched as yellow light spilled out into the courtyard as a flurry of guests left the gathering, some of whom she recognised and many she did not. They took no notice of her, she wondered if they had even seen her in their drunken state of bliss, though thought little of it, preferring in this instance to remain unnoticed. It was only after a moment of silence that she became aware of someone else's presence. She turned, startled, to see Lord Asriel, leaning against the opposing wall, a cigarette between his fingers. It was his daemon who noticed her first, however. She nudged Asriel gently and he followed his daemon's gaze to Marisa before smiling in a surprisingly welcoming manner. She couldn't help but smile in return and inevitably found herself walking over to him, her arms wrapped around herself as she began to cool down in the chilling night air.

“You’re causing quite the stir in there” she quirked, gesturing faintly towards the open doors where the social could still very much be heard.

“Oh really?”, he retorted, raising an eyebrow and grinning further. He offered her his cigarette and she took it graciously, taking a long drag and flicking the burning ash to the ground. As she did so, she noticed her daemon looking curiously at the snow leopard, inching marginally closer as he did so, his tail twitching eagerly.

“Something about your heretical studies, so I’m told” she nodded, looking back up at him.

“Ah, yes" he nodded knowingly. "The bastards in the Magisterium decided to cut my funding halfway through the damned exploration! I spoke to the Master about it, but he says nothing can be done at the moment”. She watched him coolly, wondering just what had drawn him to such a decisive field of study.

“Well, can you blame then?” she queried, raising an eyebrow questioningly, “after all, it’s hardly something the Magisterium want the likes of _you_ to go around preaching, particularly after keeping it quiet for so many years”

“the likes of _me_?” he mused, a note of humour in his voice and she couldn’t help but grin slightly,

“yes" she quipped. "The likes of you. A lord, dedicating himself to opposing the Magisterium? Well, it will hardly do _them_ any good now will it?”. Asriel laughed and she couldn’t help but feel a shiver of satisfaction at his reaction. “I’m Marisa, by the way, Marisa van Zee, since you didn't ask, and I’ve been reliably informed that _you_ are Lord Asriel”.

“The very same” he nodded, offering her a handshake which she did not return, though he seemed unperturbed. "I noticed you were talking to that weasel Edward Coulter in there. You'd do well to stay away from that one" Asriel advised, as if he were in any position to comment on Marisa's social life and who she spent it with. She felt a spark of irritation flash in her chest - who exactly was he to tell her who she should keep company with?

“And why is that?” she demanded, a slight irritation etching her tone,

“you’re far too pretty for him” he retorted shortly, which did nothing to dull her anger. If anything, he was merely digging himself a larger hole.

“He’s an impressive man already making progress within the Magisterium”, she snapped, though wondered why she was suddenly defending him when less than a quarter of an hour ago she'd eagerly managed to escape his company. "What exactly have you achieved thus far other than a failed experiment in the snow?"

“He’s a foolish dolt that possess no more sense than his dim-witted daemon” Asriel replied simply, seemingly brushing off her comment about his work as though it was neither here nor there.

“Do you generally spend your time offending people?” she growled

“generally, yes” he retorted. Marisa laughed, though rather humorlessly, and finished her cigarette whilst glaring at her golden daemon, who was inching ever closer to the spotted snow leopard. The monkey turned with a slight whimper, which she prayed neither Asriel nor his daemon had heard, and made his way back to Marisa, allowing her to hoist him back onto her shoulder, where he perched delicately, as if he belonged nowhere else but there. Asriel surveyed her with a mild interest, resting his hand on his daemon's head, as though he was deliberating his next move. “I don’t suppose you fancy another drink?” he asked, rather suddenly. Marisa looked up at him in surprise though after just a moment's deliberation decided that one couldn't do much harm and, besides, this could prove far more interesting than the local gossip she'd had to endure in her previous conversation with Edward and his pals. She thus allowed Asriel to escort her back into the main hall on the promise of a drink and a particularly interesting conversation. 

It was impossible to avoid the pointed glances thrown in their direction by their fellow scholars, most of whom had presumably heard of Asriel’s research and resented it entirely, but Marisa couldn’t deny the wave of pleasure she felt knowing those glances would be casting equal judgement upon her as well. Attention was something that had never bothered her before, and it certainly wasn't going to now. She even noted Edward's defeated gaze following them as Asriel led them to the far side of the hall, muttering something quietly to a passing waiter who returned soon after with two glasses of golden Tokay that Marisa was sure had been held specifically for Asriel’s benefit.

“Far better than the filth they were serving” he smiled, raising his glass and taking a sip. Marisa remained silent and studied him carefully, wondering if the gesture was supposed to impress her. Asriel noticed her hesitation and sighed, “I haven’t got all evening”, he mused impatiently.

“And who says you’ll be spending that evening with me?” she retorted, that wave of irritation beginning to rise within her again. Asriel shrugged in amusement,

“well, if you wish to return to your previous oh-so-intellectual conversation regarding the personal affairs of dear Professor Blakely then please, don’t let me stop you”. Marisa frowned, knowing damn well he was right (and he knew it). His inability to keep the smugness from etching his expression was, quite frankly, infuriating, but he was right; he _was_ the most interesting thing here and Marisa knew it’d be a waste to leave now, even if for the sake of her own sanity. She also found herself unable to ignore the piercing amber gaze of his snow leopard daemon which was boring into the golden monkey – it was taking every ounce of self-control to keep him by her side, and she could feel him trembling beside her in his eagerness to reach out and touch the leopard’s thick silver fur.

“So, what exactly _were_ you doing in the North then?” Marisa interjected suddenly after a moment of thought, turning her attention back to her current companion. Asriel gazed at her for a second, as though deciding just how best to reply.

“What do you know of Dust?” he murmured, lowering his voice and his head as he did so and leaning in closely. Marisa’s eyes narrowed,

“That it’s wrong…” she trailed uneasily. “That it’s sinful”.

“and who told you that?” he returned, making Marisa pause for a second

“well, the Church of course” she stated, matter of factly, “It’s in the texts – it is sin at its most pure”. She saw Asriel’s dark eyes light up at this response, as if she had fallen into a cunning trap that he had set down for her, and his reply made her wonder if perhaps she had.

“Exactly!” he cried in response, making her start slightly. “That’s what the Church want you to believe! For centuries they have told us of its evil; that it infects our very souls from the moment our daemons settle, leading us to temptation and destruction – but how can they possibly know this to be true?”

“Because-“ she started

“because the Authority ‘says so’" he spat with disdain, the grip on his glass tightening with every syllable. "We have only their word to go by, as has been the case for hundreds of years, maybe even thousands! And who is to say that word is correct?” he interjected. “What can they possibly be basing this upon if not their own beliefs? Their own agenda?”. Marisa scoffed in disbelief, wondering how this arrogant man could just swan in here and spout such heresy with so little objection.

“No wonder they cut your funding!” she growled in response, taking an involuntary step back from him as she did so. "Why on earth are you even wasting your time on such heretical filth?". Asriel grinned triumphantly, as though she had taken his bait. He took another sip of his drink and pausing for a moment before filling the space between them. He stepped towards her and lowered his head yet again so that she was able to feel his warm breath against her ear whilst his daemon touched noses gently with her own.

“Are you telling me you’re not the slightest bit curious?” he murmured softly, causing a slight shiver to race it's way up her spine. Marisa steadily met his gaze despite this, defiance beaming in her eyes and a practiced sweet smile etching itself across her face,

“it’s completely heretical” she replied smoothly, as she placed her hand delicately on his chest to push him away slightly. Asriel merely smiled in response,

“and that’s exactly why I want to study it”.

**Author's Note:**

> Wee bit canon divergent with Masriel meeting before Marisa married Edward - not sure exactly where this will go but hopefully up until the trial at least!
> 
> Also the first fic I've ever written (as well as the first bit of writing i have done in like 4 years) so hope you enjoy!
> 
> Title from 'I of the Storm' by Of Monsters and Men


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